


His Little Dragonlord

by InkOfEmrys



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur is a prat we know but he has a heart too, But that'll probably change - Freeform, Don't worry though, Even if it was making me tear up while writing it, Gen, I haven't posted in months, I hope it makes you feel something too :), It's ultimately fluff, Kilgharrah Has A Heart, Lancelot's Sacrifice, Merlin Has A Heart, More parts to come, Season Four: Episodes One and Two, Specifically the end of episode two, This first bit is on the angsty side, Ultimately this amounts to fluff and storytelling please enjoy, merlin needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkOfEmrys/pseuds/InkOfEmrys
Summary: SO. I have not posted in a long, long time.BUT. (look at me, being all dramatic). I have still been writing.And I may or may not have fallen in love with BBC's Merlin since we last spoke.ANYWAY.I wrote this start to end in one go, and gave myself a day of editing rounds, because even though it's been a few episodes since Lancelot sacrificed himself to vanquish the Dorroca...it still hurt, so I wanted to make this. (I know his story comes back...but I haven't seen that episode yet, so).This is about Merlin seeking comfort with Kilgharrah, going to him to talk the night after Lancelot's passing rites in the square.There might be more of these - I want to explore other small stories between these two, (involving others where I can), and I'll update the tags as I go. Kilgharrah telling Merlin stories, Merlin telling Kilgharrah stories - I'd love to describe a dragon laugh.I've been writing plenty, and maybe I'll put some of those things up eventually, but with this, I just wanted to challenge myself to be alone with the story, and get it out start to end all at once.All that said and done, it's nice to be back! I hope you all enjoy, and I hope you're staying busy!
Relationships: Kilgharrah & Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	His Little Dragonlord

It was the night after Lancelot’s passing rites. A pyre, was lit in his name, and a vigil was kept by his fellow knights. It was supposed to be a time for grieving, before the sun rose once again, and the rest of life went back to normal.

But Merlin couldn’t get the burn of smoke, and of tears to leave his eyes.

He left with the prince, to let Guinivere have the square to herself, but Merlin felt almost as though a piece of him had been left behind. Like yet again, he’d lost something he’d never get back. 

Lancelot was the only knight, the only one in the castle besides Gaius who knew of Merlin’s magic. He was…so noble, and so brave, just like Kilgharrah had said when the two of them met.

Merlin could still remember Lancelot’s reaction to the revelation that he was a dragonlord – a moment of astonishment overtaking his eyes, before a grin spread across his face, head shaking and laugh infectious. “Of course,” he’d said. “Why does that not surprise me.” Those eyes were always so kind, always reflective of what an honorable man he was. Always caring, like the kind of person – and even more than that, the kind of _friend,_ he’d been.

The memories made Merlin’s breath choke, every time he couldn’t escape them.

Arthur felt that it was his fault – for letting Lancelot knock him out, and take his place, as he’d been told events had unfolded. He’d awoken, on the cold floor on the Isle of the Blessed, to find his servant, shell-shocked, staring into space where the world had been collapsing. _It can’t be true,_ he’d first thought, unable to bear the disbelief. But Merlin, and Merlin alone, knew the truth, and out of the both of them, only Merlin ever would. That _he_ was the one to blame, not Arthur. For freezing. For letting Lancelot walk through the rift, and for watching, paralyzed, as one of his truest friends gave up everything. 

For letting the universe take the life of another, when it could’ve taken him instead.

After the prince, accompanied by his servant, reached his chambers, he stood, eyes red with the imprint of the flames from the center of the square. Eyes red, like the knight’s cape before it had burned, and stricken with everything the memory meant he had lost. A loyal comrade. A warrior worthy of his title, and more.

Truly the noblest of them all.

“Merlin…” he murmured as the darker-haired boy, who’d stood silently throughout the service, turned to leave – his head lifting at his name, and the aftershocks of grief reflected in his eyes. “You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.”

Merlin hesitated, unsure of whether to stay.

“I know it hurts, and it’s okay if you want to be alone,” the prince continued quietly, gaze lost in papers that held no meaning on his desk. “But if you don’t…” he trailed off with an empty sigh. “…do as you wish.”

“…I’ll see you tomorrow, Arthur,” Merlin managed shakily, opening the door as his voice betrayed him.

He just didn’t know what to do.

\---

He went back to his bed, walking past Gaius and laying back against the cold mattress. He stared at the ceiling, but all he saw was the rift closing – flashes of the man leaving, who was destined never to return. Merlin didn’t know who he could talk to. He hadn’t felt this alone in so long, his thoughts like strangers, and who he really was, what he was really _feeling_ known to no one. _There was one being who’d always known,_ Merlin thought, the realization prompting him to pull on his jacket, and sneak past the few guards still out standing sentry. Perhaps he didn’t need to be alone after all.

His walk to the open section of the forest was cold, but beyond the edge of the lower town, he could do as he wished – a gift he hoped could somehow help.

 _“O, drakon…”_ he began deeply once he’d reached the stretch of grass, trying to find the strength for a summon, but failing. 

He felt nothing that might make him strong. 

_“O, drakon…e male so ftengometta…”_ he tried again, before his voice had shaken in all the wrong places, and he sank to his knees against the damp forest floor. It was just all so much. He didn’t know how to bear it, didn’t know how to speak when all he wanted to do was whimper, sob, scream.

“Please…” he whispered, at last. “If you can hear me…please come.”

He kneeled, head bowed and tears fighting for release, until he heard the beating of leathery wings above his head, and felt a gust of wind once the dragon had reached the ground.

“Young warlock…” Kilgharrah began, his voice soft, almost worried. “What has happened?”

“I…” he tried, something catching in his throat. “I let him…Lancelot, he…” He swallowed. “He closed the rift.” He couldn’t look up. “It was supposed to be me.”

“I’m afraid he’s gone, Merlin,” the rumble came quietly, Kilgharrah able to feel the young boy’s pain in every word. In his very _soul._ Such was his connection with the dragonlords – but beyond that, such was his connection with this one, out of all that had ever lived. “I am truly sorry,” he murmured.

“I could’ve saved him, Kilgharrah,” Merlin said, thrusting his face into the air, the teardrops searing down his cheeks. “I was right there, but I was…I was frozen, i-in fear, and I just…” he breathed heavily, a sob overtaking his chest. “I couldn’t…”

Kilgharrah came closer, his movements delicate as he let his tail curl around the boy’s tiny form. _Such a small child,_ he thought, thinking back to one of their first interactions. _For such a_ great _destiny._ He leaned down, like shielding him physically could ever hope to shield him from the battering, relentless pain of loss. Like it could protect him, from the feeling when a life was gone, but still somehow slipping through one’s grasp. 

Like it could protect him, from a weight of the world none should ever, be forced to carry.

“You did all you could, child. I promise you.”

“I should’ve known he’d do something like this,” Merlin started, his fingers trembling as the words flowed past his rapidly moving lips. “I could’ve knocked him out when I knocked out Arthur, I could’ve pulled him away, I could’ve–”

“Camelot needs you, Merlin. _Arthur_ needs you, even if he does not know it yet. And even Lancelot needed you,” he spoke. “As do we all.” The dragon’s breath came in warm puffs, filling the air with a scent of comfort. Like dragonskin and home, a piece of the clouds above their heads. “His choices were his own, young warlock,” he finished. “You must not blame yourself.”

“But it’s just so _hard,”_ the boy whispered.

“I know.” Both hearts ached, pulling in tandem like a lost compass unable to find its north.

“Do you…” Merlin started slowly, after a brief stretch of quiet. “Do you remember the druid girl, who came to Camelot? The one who everyone said was cursed.”

“Yes,” Kilgharrah recollected, having felt her presence just like he’d once felt Merlin’s. “What about her?”

“Her name…was Freya.” He swallowed. “She died in my arms.”

The dragon said nothing, his head bowed in silence.

“Why is it that I can never save the ones who matter?” Merlin asked, unable to see beyond the waves of grief, beyond the weight of his failures. “Freya, my father, now Lancelot." He bit his lip. "What good, is me surviving to see the birth of Albion, when I can’t prevent any of these deaths here and now?”

“How many times have you saved Arthur?” the dragon demanded, nearly having lost count himself. “How many times have you saved Uther, saved Gaius, the girl Guinivere, even _Morgana_ for all her sins? How many times has Camelot’s survival, the survival of your friends been _your_ doing?” His voice lowered, eyes filled with a wisdom, an empathy more profound than he could express. “How many times have you saved even me?”

Merlin looked away, unable to meet his old friend’s gaze.

“You can’t protect everyone, Merlin.” He tucked his tail closer, drawing Merlin gently against his body for warmth. “Some make their own choices, follow their own path, just as it is your duty to follow yours.”

“I wish I could,” he whispered.

Kilgharrah had no response, able only to feel his pain.

Able only to be there, through the night…for his little, dragonlord.

**Author's Note:**

> Update: I've seen the episode where they officially wrap up Lancelot's arc (S4 EP9), and...well, they did him justice, in my opinion. Ultimately, they did. (It hit me in the feels for sure).  
> Just a little note, since I felt like adding it.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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